Delicious and Disturbing
by DelSol
Summary: Logan is avoding Jean after her breakup with Scott and she is determined to find out why
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: hey this is Lord Firefox here and im rewriting a great story made by a author who was here 5 to 6 years ago and has moved on to bigger and better things but didnt finish some good storys that she had going on so im here to take care of that. her name is vangiekitty and she gave me permission. so enjoy!**

DELICIOUS...DISTURBING Part 1

"It's over Scott, what part of that don't you understand?" Jean Grey asked with angry intensity.

"I moved out of your place over a month ago, hasn't it sunken in yet?"

"Our place, Jean."

"No, Your place, Scott and that's how it's going to stay so just deal with it and leave me alone!"

She slammed out of the room and stalked down to the dining hall seething with frustration. God! Why had she even bothered? All she wanted was to get the few things she'd left in Scott's room. Just get the things and go, that was the plan. But Scott was there and had to make a big scene... We belong together, we can work it out, etc. Now we don't and no we can't, she had said in no uncertain terms.

But he could never drop an argument, could never let things be. He just kept pounding at her with his whining, nasal voice untill she felt like her head would explode. That was one reason they had broken up.

But Scott just couldn't accept that she was gone, wouldn't believe she wasn't coming back. Don't you want me, Baby? Hell no!

Jean shook her head violently to rid herself of the confusing thoughts. She was beginning to think she just needed some time away from the mansion. Everyone was too close; there wasn't enough privacy to deal with emotional issues. Though the other team members politely pretended not to notice the growing tension, it was obvious everyone knew about their messy breakup Jean hated that. Above all else she valued her personal privacy.

Thank goodness she was scheduled to go away on a mission next week with Logan. The trip would last the better part of a week. Days and days away from the prying eyes of the others and Scott's relentless nagging! Logan would be along of course, and she had been happy about that when the professor first announced the trip. Lately, though, she wasn't so sure. Because lately, Logan had been avoiding her.

In the past, they'd been friends, but with that small sexual undercurrent that made things  
interesting. They joked and talked and flirted, very delicately, because with Logan, she felt safe. Even though he was the most dangerous man she knew, she sensed from him both instinctively and telepathically that he would never hurt her, that he had only her best interests at heart. That was why he never pursued a relationship with her while she was with Scott all those years. All those long, wasted years. She sighed aloud. The mutual warmth and affection she shared with Logan were good feelings, a good foundation for a lasting friendship. And it had been a good friendship for years until her breakup with Scott about a month ago.

Almost the minute she had moved out, Logan started distancing himself, making excuses, leaving a room when she entered it. She even thought he was trying to get as far away from her as possible when they had to be in the same room for some meeting or function. And he used to go out of his way to sit by her! What had changed? Maybe it was the solidarity of men. Maybe he felt sorry for Scott, thought she was giving him a raw deal, being a bitch. But no, Logan had never made any secret of what he thought about Scott. He thought Scott was a pompous ass. An opinion she now heartily seconded.

So why was Logan avoiding her? Was it just her imagination? Was she being paranoid?

"Who knows?" she thought wearily. "Who knows why Logan is avoiding me, if he is avoiding me? Who knows when all this crap with Scott will finally be over? Who knows why I'm such a crabby bitch lately? Well, I do know the answer to that, at least." The answer to that question lay not only in the emotional turmoil Scott and the break-up were putting her through but in her recent lack of sexual fulfillment. Jean had always been a very sexual creature- she liked sex and plenty of it. And now, she hadn't had any good sex in over 2 months. "Well, please," she told herself, "I haven't had any good sex for years and the last month we were together doesn't even count considering that he cut me off completely."

Scott had often used sex as a weapon in their past relationship. Knowing how much Jean liked it, no, craved it, he refused to make love with her any time he was angry, upset, or could not get his own way. The whole last month before she moved out, he had refused her completely, leaving Jean on the ragged edge and, whether he knew it or not, precipitating the inevitable end of their relationship.

As Jean recalled, the sex had never been very good, but at least it had been semi-regular.

Now she was down from at least once a week, (sometimes twice if Scott was in a good mood) to nothing at all. It was very difficult for a woman like Jean who would have liked to have sex once or twice a day to cut down to once or twice a week, but she had managed, always feeling like a starving person at a buffet only allowed to have bread and water. But to cut down to nothing, no sex at all, and for 2 months- well, it was hard. Very hard. And very wearing on her nerves. A man in a similar position would probably have visited a prostitute or tried to find casual sex in a singles bar. But Jean was a lady despite her burning need, and she would never dream of these options. She simply did the best she could manually, but it wasn't the same, not nearly. Jean remembered a line from a movie she'd seen once..."Sex is like pizza. Even when it's not very good, it's still pretty good." She tended to agree with that line and now she was getting no sex at all, good or bad. So she limped along day after day, gradually getting crabbier and crabbier and wondering what she could do with ever increasing hopelessness. She almost felt desperate enough to go back to Scott, if only he would promise to go to bed with her. Almost. But she wasn't that desperate yet. And she hoped she never would be.

With a myriad of despairing thought crowding her brain, Jean Grey trudged into the X-men's communal dining room and took the only available seat left, by Logan. He barely looked up at her as she sat down and acknowledged her friendly greeting only with a terse nod of his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he working through personal issues too? But Jean didn't believe that. Too often she had seen him joking and laughing with the others only to become abruptly silent when she drew near.

Why, only last month he would have greeted her heartily with a "Hey, Darlin" of called her by his pet nickname for her, "Jeanie". Only Logan could get away with that; even Scott just called her Jean.

But now Logan said nothing at all. He just stared at his plate- he had even stopped eating. She cast a side long look in his direction and saw his nostrils flare briefly. He turned his head away, as if from a strong odor.

"My God!" thought Jean. "Do I smell or something? Surely someone would have told me, wouldn't they?" She was about to say something, to attempt some kind of light conversation and force Logan to talk if necessary when he abruptly pushed back his chair and left the table without a word, his supper only half eaten on his plate. Jean was mortified. Surely Logan's hurried departure had something to do with her. Was he mad at her? She searched her mind for any arguments they might have had recently but they hadn't even had any conversations lately. Besides, Logan wasn't the type to hold a grudge; he was more likely to explode in a sudden rage and forget it and get over it by the next day.

Well, Jean suddenly decided, she was damn well going to get to the bottom of this right now.

He couldn't just end a friendship of four years for no reason. She meant to have a reason from him and soon, before the hour was out. And it better be a damn good one too!

"I'm really not hungry, I guess." she heard herself saying. Stupid to try and cover it up, everyone at the table had to know she was going after Logan but at that point, she realy didn't care. She pushed away her untouched plate and followed Logan out the door and into the back gardens behind the mansion.

Logan was striding swiftly away into the woods at the back of the mansion. He was walking  
straight into a stiff breeze or he surely would have known she was following by her scent or the sound of her footsteps. Thinking of that made her realize that she could catch his scent on the wind that was blowing back into her face. Whatever that new cologne was, it certainly smelled delicious. She had been meaning to ask him about it for a while, but he always left her immediate area before she could mention it.

As he just had, she reminded herself, and she was going to find out why as soon as she caught up with him. But he had a head start so she contented herself with just following, he had to stop sometime.

Finally, he did, stopping in a small clearing and sitting with his back to her on one of the large logs

that littered the area. He slumped and put his head in his hands, his muscular shoulders knotted with tension. He was the very picture of dejected frustration.

Jean stopped where she was, peering at him from behind a large tree. Hw looked terrible! All her anger melted away, maybe he was dealing with a personal problem. "Well," she told herself, "But he doesn't have to be such a secretive ass about it!" Just as abruptly, the anger was back. "What the hell," she told herself, "I'm having mood swings. Next it'll be hot and cold flashes and before I know it, I'll be howling at the sky at every full moon. What is wrong with me?" The realization that she was feeling and no doubt acting in so unstable a manner almost made her turn around and go back. She should leave Logan in peace with his problems; she had enough of her own!

Just as she was turning away, however, she heard his deep voice saying, "Might as well come out, Darlin', I know you're there, I can smell you." Foolish to think she could ever sneak up on him, he must have known she was following all along...

"What the hell." she said, out loud this time, surprising herself. "Then I guess I'll do just what I started out to do in the first place."

"And what's that, Darlin'?" he asked tiredly, resignation thick in his voice.

"Have it out with you, Logan. Why have you been avoiding me? I can't just be imagining it, can I?" Remembering his flaring nostrils at supper and asked, "Do I stink or something?"

He heaved a huge sigh and seemed to be thinking about what to say. Finally, he muttered something she didn't catch and turned his head away again. All she caught over the sound of the wind was the word, "disturbing".

"What?" she demanded. She had had just about enough of this crap, she decided. She walked around to where he was sitting and planted herself firmly in front of him. "What did you say?"

"I said," he replied, looking up at her, "That no, you don't stink but lately I find your scent very... disturbing."

"And what's that supposed to mean? Some friend you are, Logan," she continued, "I'm going through a very tough time right now and instead of supporting me, you avoid me and make up ridiculous excuses to try and explain it. Well, if you can end a friendship just like that for no real reason, then I guess there was never much to it in the first place!" She turned away, crying in frustration and hurt but he caught her arm with one large, warm hand to stop her. She tried to pull away, but his grip was like a vise.

"Whoa, Jeanie," he exclaimed in a surprised voice. "Hang on now, I'll explain everything, I promise! I'm sorry I hurt ya with my silence; I didn't know our friendship meant so much to you."

"Well neither did I 'till you ended it" she said, sniffing and turning to face him.

"I never ended it, Darlin'. I was just tryin' to give you some space. Being around you has been...difficult for me lately. I didn't think you'd notice if I backed off a little."

Jean thought she saw the problem now. "Oh Logan, I'm sorry." she said, trying hard not to cry again. "I know I've been a bitch lately! I'm just edge lately between the break-up with Scott and, well…other things. I know I'm emotional but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to drive you away."

"No, Jeanie, you're not a bitch, Darlin' and your emotions didn't drive me away."

"Then what did?" she asked, bewildered.

"Like I said, your... scent." He was looking decidedly uncomfortable now.

"But Logan, I don't understand! You said I didn't smell bad. I'm so confused, I have no idea what you're trying to say."

"It's not that ya smell bad, Darlin', it's just that ya smell so damn good," he said in a low, embarrassed voice. He seemed to realize he was still holding onto her arm and dropped it quickly, as if it had burned him.

"Logan," she said, fighting for control, "Please help me because I'm not sure I'm understanding

you correctly. Did you just say you've been avoiding me because I smell good? Because I'm sorry, but that doesn't make any sense at all to me."

"All right then, Darlin'" he said tensely, "I'll explain everything in flamin' detail, but you sure as hell won't like it!"

"I'll like anything better than not knowing what the hell is going on!" she snapped back, her temper flaring. She settled herself on the log next to him. "So explain, Logan."

"Ok, Darlin', but first, could you please sit over there upwind of me?" He indicated the log opposite him. "I kinda need a clear head and it's hard ta think when you're sittin' so close."

Wordlessly she moved to the log he had indicated and raised her eyebrows delicately, waiting. With a deep breath, Logan began.

"Ok, how do I start this?" he muttered to himself. "Well, Jeanie, you know a little about my  
mutation. You know it makes me almost... animalistic in some ways. My senses are acute, sometimes almost to the point of discomfort, especially my sense of smell."

"So?"

"So when I first met you, I should say smelled you, the reaction was immediate. You smelled...so delicious, Darlin'." Jean hadn't known this.

"Really?"

He grinned, showing his sharp, white teeth. "Yeah, Darlin', I wanted ta eat you up right away like the big bad wolf I am. But I knew it was out of the question cause your scent also told me something else... that you were taken."

"You knew that just from smelling me?" Jean was impressed. "But how?"

"I could smell Scott on you, could smell the sex you'd had with him recently. I knew then you were off limits without even seeing you with him."

Jean could feel herself blushing. "You could smell we'd had sex? But I always shower right after!

I don't see how..."

"Some scents linger." said Logan shortly. "And Scott's smell has been all over you for the whole time I've known you up until about 2 months ago. Then it started ta fade. At first I couldn't figure it out, why his scent on you was less intense even though at that time you were still in his room, presumably sharing the same bed. Then I realized..." his voice got lower, "That he must be... denyin' you, Darlin'. I knew I must be right when your scent got stronger and his got fainter. Also, you seemed... upset, like you weren't gettin' what ya needed. By the time you finally moved out, you smelled so delicious that I could hardly stand ta be around you. So I've been avoiding ya, Darlin'. I'm sorry."

"Well," Jean was almost at a loss for words. She'd known that Logan's sense of smell was acute, but this... She struggled to find her voice. "Is there anything you don't know about my personal life, Logan?" She snapped, tartly.

"I only know what yer scent tells me, Darlin'. That you're available and in want of ...things ya haven't had in a while."

Jean was severely embarrassed that Logan knew about her recent turmoil. She thought she'd been so good at hiding it, but how could she have known he could smell her need? What exactly did she smell like? Delicious, how? Aloud she said only, "What do you mean when you say I smell delicious?"

Logan sighed in exasperation. Jean seemed determined to make him embarrass her. He tried again.

"Hot. Ya smell Hot, Darlin'"

"Hot?" she was determined to understand what the hell he meant. He appeared to decide that tact was getting him no-where. Bluntly he said, "Yes, Hot. Like a bitch in heat, Darlin'" Jean blushed again but he continued. "Can ya blame me for stayin' away from ya, Jeanie? Everytime I got near you, I could smell your need, the way you wanted it so bad. And my head would fill up with things I didn't want ya to see. I know ya get ...um, flashes, pictures, emotions from people you're in close proximity to sometimes, that right?" Numbly, she nodded.

He continued, "So I tried ta stay far enough away not ta offend you, Darlin'. Because your scent is like a…drug for me, especially now. You wouldn't show a man pictures o' naked, desirable woman all day and not expect him ta react, would ya?" She slowly shook her head. "Alright then." Point made, he fell silent.

"Does... does anyone else... know?" She felt she would die of mortification if they did.

"Naw, Darlin'. You know nobody else has anything else like my mutation, except maybe Hank and he's always down in the lab. Besides, you know I'd never tell."

"Good." she felt somewhat relieved, but there was still the issue at hand. She mentally shook herself. "Well, Logan. I do feel better now that I know the reason... you've been avoiding me. But honestly, I don't know what in the world we can do about it."

"Well, Darlin'..." Logan cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Have ya tried... takin' care of yerself?"

"What?" she asked blankly. Surely he wasn't talking about what she thought he was talking about. Logan plowed on.

"Pleasuring yerself, Darlin'." He was turning a bit red as he said it. "At least it might ...um...take the edge off, ya know?"

"Oh." Jean blushed crimson to the roots of her red hair. "It's... um... not the same. Ok?" She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with Logan. It was just too awful! The wind shifted again and she caught another whiff of the gorgeous, musky cologne she had notice earlier. Desperate to change the subject, she blurted, "What's that new cologne you're wearing lately, Logan? I've been meaning to ask you..." she trailed off.

"Not wearin' and cologne." he said softly. "Never have, that stuff stinks."

"Um... maybe it's a new shaving cream? Deoderant? Shampoo? Conditioner?" He shook his head at every suggestion.

"All the stuff I use is unscented. Those smells bother me enough on other people. I don't want 'em all over me."

"Well then, what is it?" Jean was mystefied.

"Dunno."

"You do, I can tell!"

"Well, " he was reluctant. "I might have sorta an idea..."

"And?"

"Pheremones." he said simply. "Your sense of smell is nowhere near as sharp as mine but either it's really phenomenal for someone without my mutation or..."

"Or?"

"Or your body is... reacting to mine the same way mine is reacting to yours. Your body is craving well, you know. And I smell good because I'm available."

"That's crazy!" she felt sort of panicky, like her body had played a trick on her and she didn't know what to do about it or how to stop it. "You can't smell pheremones, I saw it on the Discovery channel! They work on your olfactory nerves, sure, but you don't smell them.."

"Search me then, Darlin'." Logan was unruffled. "I know I can smell yours. I do know I've always smelled like I do now, maybe you're just now noticin' my scent."

"Because I'm Hot for it? Is that it, Logan?" She turned her confusion to anger. It seemed safer that way. "Well I have news for you, buddy. I'm not some bitch in heat looking for any mangy old stray to scratch my itch!"

Logan couldn't have looked worse if she'd slapped him. "I know that, Darlin'! You're a lady; that's why you're still... in need. I didn't mean ta offend you. I'm just speakin' plainly, tryin' ta make you understand."

Jean's anger faded but she was still exasperated. "Well, Logan, I'm sorry I snapped at you. But look, we can't let this be a big deal. It will start to affect our work; we can't have that. Also," her voice softened, "I don't want to lose your friendship over something silly. And this is silly. I mean, we've got to live together, got to work together. We've got to go on that mission together next week and I don't care to go to the professor and tell him it's all off because we smell so good to each other we can't stand it. Ok?"

"You're right." he sighed "I've been thinkin' about that too, Darlin'. It's not gonna be easy, ya know. In fact, it's gonna be hard on both of us, I think." He sighed again, more deeply. "But, Jeanie, I'll do my best not to let it affect me. Your friendship means a lot to me too, Darlin'. I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize that. Just... promise ya won't be offended by anything you happen ta pick up from me, Ok?"

"Ok, Logan." How bad could his thoughts be? She would never look an purpose, it would be highly unethical. It was true she sometimes picked things up without trying, though. Especially strong thoughts and emotions. But at least he was willing to work with her on this, to stop avoiding her. She felt a deep wave of relief. Logan's friendship realy did mean a lot to her, especially now. She was more relieved than she'd realized that she hadn't lost it. Life didn't seem so bad, all of a sudden. Impulsively, she stepped forward to give him a hug. He put out a warning hand to restrain her but she was in his arms before he could stop her.

She had hugged him casually before, they had been friends for years, after all and there had always been that pleasant underlying current of sexual tension. The understanding that he wanted he and that their bodies would fit well together had always been like a thought in the back in the back of her mind when she'd touched him before. But now, that pleasant, underlying current had turned into a swollen river that threatened to drowned her. She found that instead of the friendly, casual hug she had intended, she was pressed tightly against him. His arms encircled her tightly and her breasts were smashed against his chest. She could feel a throbbing bulge pressing against her thigh and the delicious musky odor she'd thought was cologne intensified tremendously. Logan was kissing her, his tongue exploring her mouth deeply and she found she was kissing him back. His moth was hard, instant and she welcomed it, wanted him- so badly! She realized she had always wanted him, wanted to taste him. Her head filled with images and she wasn't sure if they were his or hers, and she didn't care. She saw Logan sucking her breasts, thrusting up into her as she rode him, hard and wet and hot... so hot! She realized she was hot for him now, ready for him, why had she waited so long? She reached up to unbutton his shirt and her other hand slid down, to cup his hardness. She suddenly didn't care about anything anymore, she only knew she wanted him, there and then on the forest floor... Her hand slipped inside his jeans and began to stroke him. He gave a low groan but the action seemed to bring him back to himself for he grabbed her hand and jerked it away from his hardness.

"Jeanie, NO!" he gasped. "This is what I was afraid would happed! We've got ta be careful, Darlin'. We can't just give in like this."

Her head felt fuzzy and far away and she could barely think past the heat between her legs. "But why not, Logan? " she asked in a puzzled tone. "I want you, don't you want me?"

"God, Darlin'! If only you knew how much I want you... But not like this. I don't want you to regret it. We've gotta think about this. And we've gotta be carefull."

"You're right." she replied, regaining some control. "It's just that it's been so long... I'm sorry,

I didn't mean to maul you like that." Now that she was back in her right mind, (define that as not touching Logan), she was intensely embarrassed at her actions. What had gotten into her? And what must Logan think of her? "He must think I'm a slut!" she thought and her her cheeks grew red again. Logan seemed to read her mind for he said,

"Listen, Darlin', that... wasn't your fault and I don't think any less of you either. You're just goin' through a difficult time right now, that's all. We've just gotta be... careful, ok?

"Ok Logan. I should go now, I guess."

"I guess so, Darlin'." He stepped out of her way and she stumbled out of the woods feeling if anything, more confused than when she entered them.


	2. Chapter 2

"No, Jean. You may not back out of the mission with Logan; I am very sorry but we need the information you are going to gather too desperately. Now, what is this all about? Logan was in only an hour ago with the same request. Is there trouble between you? No- don't bother to explain." he added with a wave of his hand. "I see it all in your mind. All I got from Logan was a confusing babble about a "delicious smell" and a fear that he would hurt you emotionally. But Jean, he cannot hurt you if you do not allow yourself to be hurt. Do you understand?"

"No. Yes... I don't know, Professor! Why am I like this?"

"Ah, yes, my dear. I have caught this thought from you before- that you are amoral in your sexual wants. Now Jean, slut is a very harsh word and not at all true. Please do not think this of yourself!" He shifted forward to look at her more closely. "As to why you have an increased sexual drive- why, it is your mutation, my dear. Only that, nothing is wrong with your moral fiber."

Jean looked up from her hot tears, she hated to cry in front of Xavier. "My mutation?"

"Oh yes. You see, your mutant genes are dominant. They urge you to procreate, to make more like yourself. Your body strives for this goal; it increases your sex drive. This is not uncommon. In fact, fully one half of the mutants I know of have dominant genes and the sex drive to match. You must not be ashamed of your drive; it is only your body striving for procreation of like. There is no shame, only nature and evolution at work."

"But why me?" asked Jean brokenly.

"Why any of us, my dear?" answered the Prof. kindly. "Jean, I have long known about your

drive and your self-loathing because of it. But untill now, you never came to me and so I let it be, knowing it to be a purely private matter which you had rather keep to yourself. I would never presume to intrude on your privacy but personally, I always felt that you and Scott were a poor match in this area. His genes are reccessive, you see, and thank goodness they are! His particular mutation could be very dangerous indeed if it were widely distributed throughout the population. " He leaned back again, crossing his hands on his desk. "But it has been hard for you, my dear, very hard. Don't think I don't know and sympathise."

"Professor, it has been very hard, but this is harder still," Jean confessed. "I am no longer in control of my emotions. I'm angry and ragged where I used to be calm and logical. I never knew I needed ... well, physical contact- you know what I mean- this much. It frightens me." She looked axiously at him.

"Jean, I wish I could give you easy answers, but you of all people know that nothing about our mutations is easy. We bear a burden, my dear, a deep responsibility. And I fear that this problem will only get worse for you. Before you were with Scott, you were a virgin, yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"You see, your body was not yet awakened, the genes were not so active. But now, through stimulation, (although not nearly as much as you ever desired), your body, your genes, are awake, my dear. They will not be dormant again untill you reach menopause. Indeed, I believe it is common knowledge that a woman's sexual drive actually peaks somewhere in her forties. This problem will get worse, not better, I fear."

"How can you offer me so little hope? What else can I do but go back to Scott and beg him to help me "control my drives"? I'd rather be dead!" she cried passionately, half standing.

"I didn't say there was no hope, my Dear Jean. And no, I don't feel you should go back to Scott. Theat was a bad match to begin with as I said before."

"What other options do I have?" Jean demanded, sinking back into her chair.

"Why find someone else with the dominant genes and sexual drive to keep up with you, my dear. You could be sublimely happy with the right person, I am sure."

"Wonderful." Jean said flatly. "In essence, you're giving me the same advice my Mother did when I was younger- "Catch the right man, dear, and your future will be secure." she mimicked bitterly. "I rejected that advice from her, Professor, I never thought I'd hear it from you!"

"Nevertheless," he replied calmly, "The advice is based on your personal biology as I understand it, not the outdated sexism your Mother espoused."

"Then isn't it so terribly convieniant that they boil down to the same thing. Professor, I refuse to let my body rule my mind! I have been celibate before and I will be again untill I find someone who loves me and whom I can love in return." She tilted her chin defiantly, a dangerous glint in her eye.

"Bravely spoken my Dear, but I fear you will find that you can't go against your biology and you can't fight nature. However, I wish you the best of luck in trying. Eventually, your body will make a descision for you weather your brain concurs or not."

"That's crazy!" Jean blurted. "I'm in complete contol of myself, I would never allow that to happen. I wouldn't turn into some kind of a..." she groped for words, "Sexual animal or something!"

"Would I?" her eyes pleaded.

"Jean, you have only just finished telling me how very out of control you feel. I am sorry   
to sound harsh. I am only stating the situation to you as I see it. My Dear, " his eyes grew soft, "Find someone to help you. You are suffering needlessly."

Jean was crying softly again. "I can't, Professor. You know I'm not that way..."

He sighed. "Yes, Jean. I know. But there's no other advice I can give you. Now," his voice  
grew buisnesslike. "I have work to do and I believe you must prepare for your mission tomorrow."

"But Professor, I just can't go. It's so... awkward between Logan and me now!"

"Jean." his voice was like a slap. "I do not have time to go over this again. You are going.  
That is final." He relented a little at seeing her stricken face. "Child, Logan also has dominant genes. This makes things hard, I know. But both of you are needed on this mission and no one else can be spared to play chaperone. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to work it out between you the best you can. Now go pack and remember to bring an extra tent to sleep in if close proximity to Logan is so troubling to you."

With one last, red-eyed look, Jean left the room.

Jean was broken -hearted and confused. The mission was early tomorrow and she had packed nothing, hoping to get out of it. How could the professor, of all people, give her such advice? Deep down, she knew he was only offering what he felt was a logical solution but still, it hurt just the same. The idea that she could go to one of the other men on the team and just make a quiet arrangement to... She couldn't finish the thought, not even to herself. "A girl's reputation is her most precious treasure." Whispered her mother's voice in her ear. "Once lost it can never be restored." This was one area where she had agreed with her mother. She just couldn't turn her back on those beliefs, could she?

Angrily, she began throwing clothes in a purple duffel bag, She didn't know what to think, she only knew she wished she wasn't going on this trip with Logan tomorrow. Blinded by tears, she paid little attention to what went into the bag.

"Who cares what I pack!" she thought, savagely. "After all, it doesn't matter how I look,

it's how I smell that seems to count!" This thought caused her to collapse, sobbing on the bed until she cried herself to sleep very late that night. But the thing which bothered her most was the nearly subconscious knowledge that deep down, she wanted to follow the professor's advice. And the further knowledge that despite her body's cravings, her desire for Logan was more than physical.

Early the next morning after an unrefreshing shower, Jean slumped dowstairs to meet Logan in the garage. She felt mean-spirited and dull so before leaving her room, she spitefully sprayed on a choking cloud of some super-sweet perfume that a well-meaning, elderly aunt had sent her last Christmas. Even Scott (who was usually oblivious to such things) had exclaimed at the cloying odor when she had first opened the box to smell it. It had been a sort of joke around the mansion for a while. Jean had called it her "skunk spray". Naturally she returned a beautiful thank you card to the aunt who sent it and just as naturally, she had never worn it.

But now, she drenched herself in it, coating her neck and wrists with it so that the sweet stench hung about her like a kind of olfactory armor.

"Let him smell me through this. she thought to herself angrilly. Jean hardly knew why she was going to such lengths to antagonize Logan but she told herself that she felt safer with his anger and disgust than his ardor and desire. But she didn't want to analyse her actions further than that. She just wanted to get on with this mission and on with her life. So, smelling like the world's biggest candy and flower shop, she marched determinedly into the garage.

Logan was leaning against the black hummer they were taking on this partially cross-country trip and looking rather wistfull, as though he wanted to talk everything over. But when he caught a whiff of Jean's perfume, his eyes turned hard and the muscles in his jaw began to twich.

"No," Jean noticed with a spitefull kind of joy, "Logan does not like this scent at all. Not one little bit!"

They stowed their bags in the back and she climbed silently into her side of the hummer,  
savoring her victory. She was the master of her fate! She was the captain of her soul, and no stupid genetic trick that her body was trying to play on her would change that one bit! So why did she feel kind of lousy anyway? But she refused to be moved. She was making a point, wasn't she? She buckled up and waited as Logan did the same. Without a word between them, they were off.

At first Logan drove without comment and though he turned the vent on full, it did little to dispell the sweet stench that filled the cab. Goaded by his silence, Jean at last spoke up. "Got nothing to say to me this beautifull morning, Logan?" she asked tauntingly with a little smirk.

"Yeah, Darlin', I got something to say. Now you do stink. Happy?" And he turned impassively away and, of all things, lit up one of those huge, stinking cigars which he usually smoked outside in deference to the clouds of smelly smoke they generated.

Soon Jean was coughing and her eyes were tearing dreadfully. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, when she couldn't take it anymore.

"Giving you a taste of yer own medicine, Darlin', how do ya like it?"

"Logan, how dare you? Your disgusting, smelly cigar is a million times worse than my perfume!"

"Oh is it? How do you know how a smell that strong makes me feel? Well, I'll tell ya, it makes me feel like pukin' my guts up! I told ya how sensitive my sense o' smell is; I smoke these things just to deaden it a little! One squirt o' that stuff you're wearin' would've been enough ta let me know how ya feel! Ya didn't have ta take a flamin' bath in it!" He turned back to the road but his eyes blazed with anger. Jean caught savage, incoherant blasts of emotion from him as he continued driving way too fast down the dim, early-morning rural road.

"Well," she told herself, "Now I have what I wanted: his anger instead of his desire. I should be safe from the kind of scene that happened in the woods the other day. So why do I feel so mean and nasty? I'm just doing what I have to do, right?" She felt utterly alone and utterly miserable. Soon, however, she began to feel another sensation: utterly sick. The stench of her perfume was even getting to her, she had to admitt. And the foul cigar smoke wasn't helping any either. But she wasn't about to say anything to Logan; that would be like admitting defeat. Grimly, she set her teeth and tried to hold on to her gorge.

"I am fine." she told herself firmly. "I will not puke." But telling her stomach not to eject her breakfast and making it obey her directives were beginning to be two different things. To top it all off, it was stuffy in the cab of the hummer and the thick woolen cable-knit sweater she wore seemed hotter and hotter.

Jean began to get overheated and it made the queaziness in her stomach that much worse. She felt faint.

"What should I do?" she asked herself in a strange, detatched way, "Throw up or pass out?"

By now Jean had had enough but was scared to open her mouth for fear of tossing her cookies all over the interior of the hummer. She hated to risk touching Logan again after what had happened last time, but right now, sex was the last thing on her mind. Urgently, she tugged at his sleeve.

"What?" Logan growled, glaring straight ahead at the road. She pulled on his sleeve a bit harder and finally, he looked at her. She was positively green and Logan's anger turned quickly to alarm.

"You Ok, Darlin'?" he asked, his angry mood melted entirely at the sight of her looking so faint and ill. She shook her head violently and almost lost it. Weakly, she pointed to the side of the road, but he was already pulling over and running around to her side of the vehicle to drag her out into the open air.

Afraid she would be violently ill, Jean pushed away from him and staggered into a nearby clump of bushes. There she lost what felt like every meal she'd ever eaten. Looking at the steaming mess in the branches of the innocent bushes made her dry-heave again.

Jean hadn't thrown up in a while and she had forgotten what an utterly wretched experiance it was.

She knelt in the matted grass with her head hanging down and trying to catch her breath.

"At least it didn't come out my nose too!" she thought thankfully. "But it's bad enough as it is. Where's a water fountain when you need one? I'll never get this taste out of my mouth!" Just then she heard Logan behind her saying anxiously,

"I've got a jug o' distilled water, Darlin', if you think you can sit up."

"Don't come over here, Logan." she warned in a hoarse voice. " 'S disgusting. I'll come there."

She half crawled to the sound of his voice but couldn't quite mannage to stand.

"Here Darlin'." he said tenderly and lifted the gallon jug of water to her lips. She rinsed out her mouth and swallowed convulsively once or twice. Then, to Logan's surprise, she suddenly grasped the jug and and tipped the chilly water over her head with a little gasp.

"Now, Jeanie, why'd ya do that? Now you're soaked, Darlin'! Ya might get sick." Logan sounded so confounded at her strange behavior that Jean had to laugh, though it came out as more of a croak.

"In case it slipped your notice, Logan, I'm alraedy sick. And the reason is this damned perfume! Do you have any soap in your bag? I want to wash this stink off me." Logan produced a bar of Ivory soap and a washcloth from his travel kit and Jean proceeded to take a cat-bath right in the field. She got as much of the cloying odor off as she could but she was thoroughly soaked in the process. The wet sweater, she knew would dry but her dripping bra she found impossible to stand. Wet wool or wet cotton she could deal with but both together? "Uh-uh." she thought. "One of these has got to go!" Since Logan had turned to give her some privacy, Jean simply unsnapped her bra and fished it out. As she was pulling it out her sleeve, however, the strap on one side snapped. "Oh well," she thought with resignation. "It was an old one anyway. I'll get a fresh one out of my bag at the first rest stop we come to." She left the old bra in the field, under a bush, not wanting Logan to know she had removed it.

All in all, Jean reflected, she felt refreshed after her little bath, if still a bit cold and shaky. She climbed back into the hummer slowly and leaned her head back on the soft leather seat.

"Logan," she began but he was already saying,

"Jeanie," with an ernest look on his face.

"Me first, Logan, please." she said weakly. "I'm so sorry I was such a bitch to you this morning. I guess I just couldn't deal with what happened between us. But there's no excuse for me acting like an immature idiot. I was stupid and mean, can you forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me, Darlin'" he said in a low, ashamed voice. "I never ment ta make ya ill, Jeanie. Hurtin' you is the last thing I'd ever want ta do. But damn it!" He slammed his hands on the steering wheel in self disgust, "That's all I seem ta know how ta do lately!"

"Oh, no, Logan. You don't get all the credit for this little scene, my dear. Don't forget, I started it!" she pointed out. "And ended it too, all over myself." she added in such a mournful tone that Logan had to laugh. His rich, hearty chuckle rumbled up from his deep chest and filled the cab. Suddenly the whole day seemed brighter to Jean.. She smiled a little herself and then couldn't help laughing along with Logan, he had such a catching chuckle!

"It wasn't that funny." she said as their burst of hilarity finally tapered off.

"Guess not, Darlin', but ya do look a little like a drowned rat." Logan said, grinning. Jean sighed, but not unhappily.

"Oh, I know, but maybe I deserve it." she said meditively.

"Well, if it comes ta that, we both do." Logan answered softly. "Ya know, we've been actin' like a couple o' kids today, pouting and snappin' at each other. We just need ta give it a rest and grow up. After all, we're adults. We can work all this out- it's not such a big flamin' deal, Darlin'."

"That's right! That's just exactly what I've been telling myself all along!" she exclaimed "I should have just taken a calm attitude towards this whole thing but I let myself get pannicked. ... Not like Professor Xavier was such a big help in keeping me calm." she muttered under her breath, thinking resentfully of the "You are doomed to have indescriminate sex, it is your biological destiny" speech he had given her yesterday. It had made her feel helpless, desperate. And look where those feelings had gotten her- right into a silly, hurtful fight with Logan, a friend she truely cared about. Maybe if the Prof. had been more understanding and supportive the whole ugly scene could have been avoided!

"Yeah, I went to him too and he gave me some mumbo-jumbo about genes and drives. Load o'

crap- ya know?"

"Exactly." she answered. "That's exactly what it is, Logan. We should just ignore all that...stuff and go on being good friends and finish this mission together. We'll put all this behind us and concentrate on the buisness at hand."

"So we're callin' a truce, Darlin?" Logan asked, smiling. "No more tryin' ta stink each other out?"

"No," she agreed smiling. "I think I can promise you never to wear that particular perfume again."

"Good," he said, with feeling. "That stuff could make a strong man cry, Darlin'! And likewise, I promise no more cigars in enclosed areas."

"Thanks, Logan." she said fervantly. "Well, we'd better be getting along, I guess."

"Guess so." he answered. Jean wanted to reach across the seat and squeeze his hand for  
reassurance but she didn't. It might not be quite safe. In the enclosed cab of the hummer, the rich, musky fragrance that was Logan's scent began to reach out to her. She wondered drowsily if her own scent was affecting him as well. But before she could think about that possibility or the implications of it, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The delicious scent followed her down and drawn by it as an iron filing is to a magnet, she shifted towards Logan in her sleep until her head rested against his thigh. Logan sighed and looked down at the beautiful face and crimson hair spread over his jeans like a silken shawl. His hands itched to caress that beauty and her rich, inviting scent filled him with desire and fear for what the future might hold. He didn't want to hurt her, but he wasn't sure he could help himself. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Better just keep driving. It was better that way...safer. Just keep driving. So he did.


End file.
